


Spark Claimed

by AbsintheNightmare



Series: Undrowned [1]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Cameo By One Other ATEEZ Member, Desert Island, Dream Sequences... or is it, Fictional Religious Stuff, Gen, I Seriously Have No Idea How To Tag This, Implied Human Sacrifice, Inspired By Naondel, M/M, Sequelbait Ending, The Tiniest Drop Of Blood, a kiss or two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:09:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24422560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbsintheNightmare/pseuds/AbsintheNightmare
Summary: Yeosang has been raised to serve his people, to become the Spark that gives them life.However, when he arrives to the sacred island he's meant to do his ritual, something seems off.How can he be claimed as a Spark when someone before him has ruined everything?
Relationships: Kang Yeosang/Park Seonghwa
Series: Undrowned [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775938
Comments: 4
Kudos: 103





	Spark Claimed

**Author's Note:**

> It's been at least a YEAR since I last wrote fanfiction, I've mostly focused on original work. But now I've found myself sliding into a new fandom... this is a first time I'm writing anything k-pop related. 
> 
> This was inspired by Naondel (a novel by Maria Turtschaninoff, which I recommend), I thought of one chapter in that story and got inspired to write this. Working on this story was basically me making up things as I go and desperately trying not to rip off the novel too much. I think I succeeded.
> 
> I thought of tagging the actual ship here, but I think I want to keep you guessing for now. Hope you enjoy this regardless!
> 
> Any mistakes or non-story related weirdness is caused by me not being a native English speaker and/or not proof-reading well enough.

The salty smell of seawater was almost overwhelming. In any other case it would probably have made him sick, but the boat ride had been long enough for him to get used to it. Yeosang was convinced all his insides were covered in salt he had absorbed simply by breathing in. It was impossible to smell anything else. He wasn’t sure there was any other scent to sense. 

Even the island seemed like it would have no other smell to offer than that of the sea. 

They were almost beached, it was time to hop off. Yeosang glanced over his shoulder at the boatman, the only person with him at the moment. He was not looking at him at all. It was customary, he’d heard from the priests. As little contact as possible. They hadn’t exchanged a single word during the whole trip, and the man wasn’t allowed to look at him anymore. Yeosang had no idea how anyone would ever know if the boatman would break that rule, but that was none of his business anymore. 

He shed most of his clothing, folding them neatly on the small bench of the boat. The beautiful sky blue overshirt and simple pants, even his shoes. What he was left with was a thin white short sleeved shirt and shorts. For a fleeting moment he felt exposed, however, there was no one to look at him on the island. There was no reason for him to get shy. 

Yeosang stepped off the boat, submerging his feet into the warm, shallow water. He took some steps forward, landing on the beach of this small island. The sounds of waves filled his ears, the boatman likely had already started turning the boat around to leave quietly, as was his duty. Yeosang wanted to look over his shoulder again but something told him it was not a good idea. He did not want to get the man in trouble for accidentally looking at him... or get any ideas himself that would hinder his mission. It was better to focus on what was ahead of him. 

The island was small, very small and quite bare, mostly sand and some exposed rock. Still it held some unpronounceable beauty Yeosang found himself appreciating. Not the worst place to die on, especially knowing he’d fulfill his destiny and served countless others in the process.

It didn’t take a long walk for him to find the temple. If you could even call it that. It was a tiny building right in the middle of the island, made out of white stone that reflected the sunlight, making just looking at it from afar almost painful for his eyes. Otherwise it was very unremarkable, a far cry from the large, ornamental temples Yeosang had spent most of his life in back at home. It was surrounded by a circle of smooth, large stones, intentionally placed as a marking of a sacred location. Yeosang felt a sense of holiness fill him as he stepped between the stones, marveling at their smooth surfaces. It reminded him of the feeling he always had back at his home temple, when it was time for some of the larger rituals of the year. All that was missing were the chanted prayers and the smell of herbs or sweet incense, replaced by the omnipresent salt. Yeosang rubbed his nose while approaching the temple, as if that would have helped to get the scent out of his system. 

  
  


There wasn’t even a proper door, just a carved doorway, which Yeosang slipped into. It was much darker inside the temple, only a small window near the roof letting in some light. The air was cool, slightly less salty. There wasn’t much space, or much anything, really. Just a small altar carved in stone, with a small knife on top of it. Yeosang moved closer, reminiscing the instructions he had been given. What he was supposed to do. 

He picked up the knife, weighing it on his hand. It was clean, but unremarkable, just like everything else on the island had been. The handle was made of simple dark wood, nothing like the ritual knives Yeosang had seen some of the priests use, with metal or ivory handles, ornate with elaborate carvings. This was a simple tool, but for some reason it seemed fitting for the place. Something that would stay intact and usable. 

Now, time to do what he was supposed to do. 

_ Hair on the first _ . Yeosang remembered the High Priest’s words well. He brought the knife to his hair and cut off some. It was surprisingly effortless, he had been fully prepared to struggle with the task or just give up using a ritual knife and simply yanking some off, but there he was, standing with a handful of neatly cut, blonde strands of hair. He knelt down at the altar, beginning his prayer. The words came effortlessly, he had repeated them for years, read them, recited them to his mentors, just so he would know them by heart at this moment. His fingers curled around the hairs, careful not to drop a single one, while his other hand lowered the knife back to where he had picked it up. 

Final words of the prayer left his lips. Yeosang raised his head, running the described ritual in his mind. What was he supposed to do next? An image of the High Priest flashed in his mind. The man had always waved his hands in a peculiar way as he spoke, like they were communicating in another language to drive the point of his words home. 

_ You must have noticed it, dearest Spark. There is always a crack on the altar’s surface.  _

That Yeosang had indeed noticed. He had thought it was strange at first when he saw every single altar on all the temples he had visited had one. He had never dared to ask whether it had a special meaning or purpose. Yeosang wasn’t sure why, it wasn’t like he had ever been forbidden to question anything. Everyone at the temple had always been patient with him, explained things, done their best to answer everything he needed an answer for. Even if it had been uncomfortable, they couldn’t deny knowledge from their Spark. Seems like an altar’s crack had just been a detail easily wiped from his mind and what he forgot to ask about until the High Priest had explained it without his prompting. 

As the altar was so bare, at least compared to the ones back at home, the crack was easy to find. It was not small, likely had stood there for ages, slowly eating the altar stone away and growing. The gap was wide enough to slip something through it. Like a coin into a donation chest. Except Yeosang was not supposed to give the altar a coin. Instead he offered the hairs he had cut. 

Unlike cutting them, getting all the hairs neatly through the crack actually took some effort. There was always one twisting away, trying to escape. Eventually he made sure that every single strand slipped through the crack. Offering made, he bowed his head down again. There were three prayers to make, the second was shorter than the first. In Yeosang’s opinion it seemed almost unnecessary, but he wouldn’t ever voice that opinion out loud, or break the rules of the rituals he was supposed to perform. He had to do this exactly as taught, to ensure everything went as planned, as was expected of him, a chosen servant. He was their Spark and this was his duty. His destiny. 

The second prayer was over quickly. Yeosang touched the altar with his fingertips, his eyes going back to the knife.  _ Hair on the first, blood on the third. _

How much, he recalled asking when the ritual had first been described to him. Perhaps it had been a childish question. He was going to die on this island anyway, performing his duty, why would a cut frighten him? Yeosang picked up the knife, holding it to his left hand. He would have to be careful, precise. There were no visible bloodstains on the altar, he preferred to keep it that way. He eyed each of his fingers carefully, before settling on to his left pointer finger. 

_ Just a drop or two will do. You still have things to do after this, dearest Spark. _

Yeosang grimaced as the tip of the knife made the tiniest cut into his fingertip. It wasn’t much, but enough for him to let a few drops of blood drip into the altar’s crack as he began reciting his third and final prayer. The pain was minimal, thankfully, he could easily ignore it as he focused on the words coming out of his mouth instead. Each one of them deliberate, well-rehearsed, just like the first two prayers. The last one wasn’t very long either. 

As he finished, Yeosang brought his finger to his mouth, lightly sucking on the cut. It refused to stop bleeding. It was getting hard to see inside the temple, the sun had been on it’s way down when he arrived. 

  
  


The cool stone floor had been anything but comfortable to sleep on but Yeosang didn’t really have many other options. He rubbed his stiff neck, trying to relieve the ache as he pulled himself up to lean against the wall. Slowly, as both his body and mind awakened, he stood up, ignoring the quiet rumble in his stomach. The sunlight poured in through the small window, a new day. It was time to continue. 

_ For everything to be complete, you must take care of your predecessor.  _

Yeosang had not known the previous Spark. He wasn’t even born when they had been chosen, when they had performed their duty. And while people in the temple had always indulged him with his questions, they had remained tight-lipped about his predecessor. What they were like, their age, their gender, even their name. It wasn’t something he needed to know. Just that they had done what he would be now doing, and that disposing of their remains was part of the duties of the new Spark. 

Speaking of remains, he found none.

Yeosang carefully combed through the whole island, turned every rock he could, took hours to dig through some of the sand at the beach. He expected to find bones, a skull, perhaps even clothes similar to his. Nothing. He even waded into the water, trying to peer deeper to see if something had sunk there. But the waters around the whole island were shallow, and he didn’t want to venture too far. While the sea seemed calm, he didn’t want to risk getting swept away by accident. He was not a very good swimmer, he doubted he could actually stay afloat that well. 

An unease settled into his stomach, as doubt clouded his mind. What was he supposed to do, when there were no remains to be found? Just continue on as if what was needed to be done had already been done? Keep searching, even when it was becoming clearer and clearer that it would be a fruitless endeavor?

Uncertain, Yeosang returned to the temple. Did this mean he would fail the rituals, no matter what? His eyes landed again on the knife, as there was not much more to look at.

Yeosang suddenly remembered how clean the knife had been when he found it. Of course, you were supposed to clean it in the ocean after the three prayers. There were no traces of blood on the altar either, so the previous Spark must have washed it too... with what? They had no possessions with them as they arrived. You couldn’t exactly carry water in your hands all the way to the temple. Unless you waited for rain... 

Someone had cleaned the altar at some point at least, otherwise there would have been stains left by some previous Spark. Yeosang didn’t believe there wouldn’t have been at least one whose hand would have shaken at least a bit, or one that would have accidentally cut their hand more severely. Then again, they all had been trained for this for almost their entire lives. No mistakes allowed. Everyone of them would make a small cut, have the blood drop directly to the crack of the altar, without spilling. 

Everything could be explained away somehow, but it was especially the lack of bones or clothing that unsettled Yeosang. And as he stared at the altar and the knife resting on it, he slowly became more and more convinced that the previous Spark wasn’t here. That they had not been here at all. They hadn’t completed the ritual properly. Not left themselves here for Yeosang to take care of. 

That was the part they had failed. Failed to die on the island.

_ Three prayers when you arrive, dearest Spark. Hair on the first, blood on the third. _

_ For everything to be complete, you need to take care of your predecessor.  _

_ One last chant for the completion, an invitation. Let yourself be claimed as our Spark.  _

  
  


Yeosang didn’t sleep that night. His mind was racing at amazing speeds, trying to come up with an explanation, an idea of what he was supposed to do now. Everything was supposed to go just like the High Priest had told him. He was supposed to follow instructions, complete his work, be the Spark that brought life and prosperity to his people. 

Never it had even crossed his mind that something could complicate matters like this. 

Technically, it would have been just a single task crossed off a list, he could have moved on to the last parts of the rites he needed to perform. However, it didn’t feel right to Yeosang. It seemed important that he would take care of the former Spark’s earthly remains. But that was not possible if there were no remains to begin with. 

At some point Yeosang began to question whether the previous Spark had even set their foot on the island in the first place. What if they had never arrived? Swept by storm before they even had a chance to fulfill their purpose? 

But in that case, what Yeosang would have found from the island would have been what was left of the Spark before the last one. No one else would set foot on this island, sacred ground. No one else would clean up after them. So the former Spark must have had arrived. And completed at least some of the ritual. And then disappeared. Ran away. Left the island without fulfilling the last steps. And because of that, ruined everything for Yeosang. For everyone.

Yeosang had never thought it would be possible to hate someone he had never met. But at that moment, he hated the person who had been here before. He hated them so much. How could have they been so selfish? To just have left, and leaving him unable to complete the ritual. He would fail. What would that mean to others? Would they ever know? Would everything wither, would there be signs that would tell the priests of his home that he had failed to be their Spark? Everything he had lived for, had been raised for... it would be for nothing.

He would die here without fulfilling his purpose. Without giving others what was needed of him.

Yeosang’s mouth had been getting dry the whole time he had spent on the island, but the thought that settled in as the moon faded seemed to drain him completely. He would truly die here, waste away, but without doing what he was supposed to do. All for nothing. All because of his predecessor’s mistake. 

  
  


The third day was torture. Now that there was nothing for him to do, nothing for him to focus on, Yeosang truly felt the fact that he had not had anything to eat or drink for a while. The thirst in particular made itself very known. The seawater looked so tempting from afar, but every time he made his way to the beach, he was starkly reminded by the salty scent that even a small mouthful would just serve to make him feel even worse. How long could a man go without water, Yeosang had no idea. He had a feeling it wouldn’t take long. The High Priest had assured him he wouldn’t spend long in the island after he would be done with his mission. 

The day was clear, not a single cloud in sight. He had tried to stay inside the temple, in the cool sanctuary provided by the rock and the shade, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t bear to look at the altar without getting overflown with rage. Towards his failed predecessor, the unfair situation he was put in. Yeosang wasn’t used to such strong emotion flowing through him. He had been taught to control his impulses and feelings, usually it had come quite naturally to him. But he couldn’t suppress it this time, he just couldn’t.

So he had left the temple, stayed outside in the merciless sunlight that caressed his skin wherever he moved. Not that he moved that much. He had stayed in the stone circle for a good while, prayed a couple of times. For guidance, for comfort, for anything. Yeosang had to come up with words himself, these were not something he had been taught. It proved difficult, as did speaking, even whispers. The words clung and stuck to his dry throat, but despite the struggle he managed to eventually get them out to the world. 

It did little to provide comfort to his exhausted mind, however, as it was constantly invaded by somewhat more desperate thoughts he fought to keep at bay. Yeosang rubbed his temples as he made his way again towards the beach. No matter what, he would face his death with dignity expected from the Spark. Even if the one before him had not. 

Perhaps they had gone mad in this place and tried to escape. Exhausted themselves swimming away and slowly sunken to the bottom of the sea. Could someone trained their whole lives for this truly be so weak-minded? Yeosang couldn’t see that happening. No, this had to be something else. Out of malice, or an outsider intervening. There was no way a Spark would abandon their duty otherwise. 

He had to admit however, the beautiful blue water did look tempting the more he stared at it. He found himself entertaining the thought of taking a dip and letting himself float for a little while. Let the waves move him wherever they wished. Away from here.

Yeosang smacked himself in the head lightly. The thirst must have made him delirious. Even if the previous Spark had left the island, he sure wouldn’t. Even if he was a failure, he wouldn’t ruin everything for his successor. There would be another after him. Maybe in a twenty years or so, he recalled the last one had left for their mission a couple of years before he was born. Maybe even sooner. Two failed rituals in a row had to mean something. It would surely bring hardship, ruin. Yeosang couldn’t bear to imagine what would happen. He was too tired to even try. But this wasn’t something he could fix anymore. He took a few steps further, the warm water reached his calves. 

Yes, he had to accept his fate and wait for the next Spark to repair the damage the one before them had caused. No matter how unfair it seemed to him.

Yeosang vaguely registered his hair getting wet. His face meeting the surface of water. The feeling of weightlessness, being carried by the wave. The feeling of submersion. 

  
  


He dreamed of home. The temple he had spent his life in. The devout men and women he had been surrounded by. Those who would take care of him, train him, prepare him. Their dearest Spark, chosen by the High Priest himself. He dreamed of them, but their faces seemed blurred, distorted. Like watching someone through a glass of water. 

He dreamed of his arrival. The steps he took were difficult, as if weighed down by something. He did everything that was expected of him. He found the bones, the off-white clothes, right there, in the middle of the stone circle. He let the fabrics fly away with the wind, ground the bones into dust. Shattered the skull of that despicable predecessor of his on the rocks. He chanted his final prayer as he walked to the beach. He was complete. He had done what he was meant to do. 

He was ready to be claimed. 

Yeosang had the feeling it had to happen on the beach. He would have to wait there. Wait for the moment he would be claimed, and he could let it happen. The sea would rise and extinguish his spark, for it to light up in countless others. Yeosang lied on his back, the water barely reaching him as the sand beneath him mimicked his shape.

He dreamed of it coming for him. 

It approached him slowly, with curiosity in its’ dark eyes. It took in his form, head to toe, his face, his soaked clothes. It reached down to greet him with a soft kiss. Yeosang tasted the salt of the sea, but in between he sensed a strange sweetness unlike anything he had tasted before.

”Such beauty.”

It had a melodic voice, one that could easily lull Yeosang to calm, but beneath the sweet tone there was something dangerous. Something that told him that it would drag him to the deepest depths of the ocean. It would do it, and Yeosang would be no match for it. 

”Will you let me claim you?” it asked. Yeosang briefly thought it was funny. It would do it anyway, why ask? Then he remembered another voice he couldn’t pin onto a face, reminding him.

Let yourself be claimed.

Yeosang’s vision was blurred. He could barely make out the features of what was before him. But he knew it was beautiful, it had the most beautiful face he had ever witnessed. To see something like this the moment he finally got to fulfill his destiny seemed like a blessing. 

”I am ready”, he wasn’t sure if the words came out or not, they sounded muted. But it seemed to listen. 

”Claim me.”

It smiled and kissed him again. Yeosang felt his lungs fill with water, and though he expected pain, it never came. Something crept on the sand, wrapping around his wrists, pressing into his skin. 

”Then you shall be mine”, it whispered against his lips.   
”Dearest Yeosang.”

Yeosang vaguely thought he might have heard human voices in the distance, getting closer.

**Author's Note:**

> So... in case it wasn't obvious enough, I DO have a follow-up planned for this (or rather, I have ideas for it that need to be planned out further). Would you guys be interested in that? I'm not making any promises on when it's going to come out though, it might take a while, but I'll do my best. 
> 
> I don't think I've ever written a story with this little dialogue, as my usual writing feels very dialogue heavy. 
> 
> If you feel like leaving kudos or a comment, I would appreciate it!


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